


The Memories that Bind Us

by ActuallyMe



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: F/F, No one can tell me that Shadow Weaver wasn't creepily obsessed with Adora, TW Emetophobia, TW for CSA, Tw for past child sexual assault, it's not explicitly described but it's there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-17 12:37:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 14
Words: 18,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16974696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ActuallyMe/pseuds/ActuallyMe
Summary: Catra should have known something was up all those nights that Adora would show up late to curfew, disoriented and exhausted.  Now she has a choice: continue to serve the same people who would do this to their own children, or swallow her pride and join Adora.orAdora has been repressing these memories for way too long.  She was bound to break someday.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Español available: [Los recuerdos que nos atan.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17264441) by [LightDark01](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LightDark01/pseuds/LightDark01)



> This is probably going to be one of the more painful chapters. TW for CSA. It's not explicit, I don't write explicit CSA, but it might still be very upsetting to some people.

“We can add features that would allow all of us to communicate without ever leaving our rooms. All it would take is a few adjustments here, and - there we go!” 

Catra rolls her eyes at Entrapta’s chattering, throwing things everywhere as she, Entrapta, and Scorpia all ransack the bedroom that once belonged to Shadow Weaver. It was Scorpia’s idea, something about how they have the day off and Catra can’t keep sleeping in a room decorated by her deposed predecessor. Catra won’t admit it, but she was relieved when they offered to help. The thought of going through Shadow Weaver’s things by herself makes her feel some kind of way. It still feels weird to sleep on a bed without Adora, not hearing hers or the other cadet’s sleepy breaths. Actually, scratch that, Catra could do with just Adora, not that she’ll ever admit it. Sometimes she’s tempted to sneak into Scorpia’s room, but the princess would take it for something it wasn’t. Best not to.

“Look at all of these books,” Scorpia says, picking up the biggest one from the bookcase. Catra hasn’t touched those yet. They’re mostly mystical mumbo-jumbo. Nothing useful there for her. She’s never had magical powers, and seeing what they did to Shadow Weaver, seeing what magic did to _Adora _, she doesn’t want to touch that shit.__

____

____

Scorpia opens the book. “Hey, wow, this is hollow.”

That piques Catra’s interest.

“Oooooh, what’s in it?” Entrapta’s hair dips into the container and retrieves a file. Catra saunters over to her and plucks it from the prehensile hair. 

“It looks like a video file. An old one.” Catra says. Scorpia is hunched over her, peering at the file and Entrapta’s hair fiddles with it as Catra continues to hold it. 

“It needs a passcode, but it shouldn’t be too hard to hack. It’s obsolete technology for a reason, and--ooh! There we go.” Entrapta smiles, satisfied with herself as the file hums to life and a hologram lights up before them. The room dims and Catra feels a cold shadow descend over her.

The files are named ‘Adora,’ followed by the numbers four to nineteen, followed by dates.

Ugh, Adora, again. Probably highlights from her training, and Catra is about to tell Entrapta to turn it off when Entrapta picks one labeled "Adora, 6." It is one of an odd forty for that number.

“Now, Adora.” Shadow Weaver’s voice fills the room. Her back is turned to the camera, and the only thing they can see is a young Adora, her big blue eyes filled with fright. It’s almost as if the camera is focused on the little girl, on her terror.

“Yes, ma’am? Did - did I do something bad?” Her little voice trembles, but then, she’s shaking, so that’s not a wonder. 

Catra swallows. This doesn’t feel right. Adora is in Shadow Weaver’s bedroom, and Catra knows that isn’t normal. Shadow Weaver never let anyone into her bedroom, and why would she? They were just cadets. What would they do in their commanding officer’s bedroom? This feels wrong.

“No, Adora, you haven’t done anything bad. In fact, you’ve been very good. This is a reward.”

They watch from behind as Shadow Weaver removes her mask and Adora gasps, in her eyes, Shadow Weaver’s deformed face reflected.

“Come here, Adora.” Shadow Weaver says.

Adora shuffles forward, reluctance in her demeanor.

“Closer.” There’s a bite to Shadow Weaver’s voice, like a spider about to devour a meal. She often sounded like that before punishing Catra.

“This is messed up.” Scorpia says as hologram-Shadow Weaver begins to undress baby Adora. Until then, Catra had forgotten the others were in the room.

“Out,” she commands. When the other two make no move to leave, she repeats. “Get out! Her voice is shrill, and Entrapta bolts out of the room while Scorpia lingers for a moment.

“You sure you wanna see this by yourself?” She asks, compassion and understanding in her voice. Catra resents it. 

“Out,” her teeth bared, her hiss venomous. Scorpia pats her shoulder and Catra recoils, but finally, Scorpia follows Entrapta and Catra is left to watch her best friend’s rape by herself.

It makes Catra sick, but she watches the whole thing. She watches it right to the end, where Shadow Weaver erases the encounter from a stunned and silent Adora’s mind. Fuck. _Fuck._

There are others. Catra forces herself to watch more, and it becomes clear that the numbers four to nineteen are Adora’s age. That’s so wrong. This is all so wrong

The last one she watches is the worst one, because Adora is an adult, but makes no move to defend herself. Her eyes go empty right as Shadow Weaver starts on her and oh no, Catra is going to be sick, she is going to be -

She runs to the bathroom and sick wrenches itself from her gut. She wants to lie down, to sleep and forget what she’s seen, but she cannot go back into that bed, not knowing what she knows, not after seeing Shadow Weaver rape her best friend on the bed she’s been sleeping in for months. She leans over the toilet, heaving until the yellow bile runs out, and dry heaving some more after that.

\---

Catra paces, as if she were the one in a cell and not Shadow Weaver.

“What do you want.” Shadow Weaver sounds weak, and Catra should be reveling, not fuming. But she needs to know why. Adora was the golden child, and the last person to deserve this.

“Why did you erase Adora’s memories?”

Shadow Weaver groans. “You know as well as I do that I was unable to finish the mind wipe before -” 

Catra has no patience for this. “Not the last time. Before that. When we were kids. When we were growing up.” Catra’s teeth clench. “You hurt her, and then you erased her memories.”

Shadow Weaver leans close to the electrical field barring her inside.

“How do you know about that?” .

Her stomach is still twisting itself in knots, but she composes herself. “Why did you hate us all so much?”

“I hated you, insufferable child. Adora was mine. I loved her,” Shadow Weaver's voice takes on the same tone it used to when she was praising Adora, and the hairs on Catra’s arms stand on end. 

Catra has one more question. “Did Hordak know?”

Shadow Weaver laughs. “You think he doesn’t find comfort in one of his soldiers every now and again? Of course, he knew. He knew who was mine the same as I knew who was his.”

Catra nods. She wants to howl with the unfairness of it, that Adora was right all along and Catra was too stubborn, blinded by the promise of power and the hurt of her best friend’s betrayal, to see it. Of course, the Horde is evil, but for whatever reason, Catra had expected better. Of course, it’s Adora who convinces her. But no, Catra won’t give her the satisfaction of knowing. 

“Kay.” Catra sighs before she opens a hole in the field and throws something into it. “Bye.”

Shadow Weaver’s sinister laughter is cut short by an explosion. Catra wishes it could have lasted longer, that Shadow Weaver could have suffered, but at least now she’s dead. She’s dead and she can’t hurt Adora or anyone else anymore.

Catra leaves the building and finds the skiff where Scorpia and Entrapta are waiting for her.

“Hordak knew,” she tells them. “We’re going.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've literally never been in a more welcoming fandom. You guys have showered me with comments, which I'm definitely not used to, so here's another chapter less than 24 hours before the last one.

“We’re going back to the Rebellion?” Entrapta tilts her head, looking for confirmation from Catra. Her hair is twisting itself in knots like hands, and Catra can tell she is nervous and confused.

“Yeah. Yeah, we are.” Catra isn’t sure what else to say. Of course, they’re going back. Where else can they find someone to help them take down the Horde?

“But - but why? I don’t understand. Is this another social thing I’m just not getting?” Entrapta looks at Scorpia who takes her to the side as Catra steers the skipper north. They didn’t exactly prepare for the cold weather. Well, Catra doesn’t know how true that is. She told Scorpia her plan, and Scorpia prepared everything. For all she knows, there are coats in the massive trunk that Scorpia hauled on board.

Catra doesn’t want to hear what they’re saying, doesn’t want to hear Scorpia awkwardly explain what rape is, but she hears fragments as the wind begins to howl around them. She ignores them as best as she can. Usually, she has more patience for Entrapta, but she is angry that some people can be so sheltered while she and her friend endured the reality of abuse every day. Gods, Adora. How could Catra have been so blind? She should have realized, she should have known something was up, all those nights that Adora would show up late to curfew, disoriented and exhausted with that bitch's scent all over her. Catra shivers, whether it’s from the cold or the guilt, she doesn’t know.

As if on cue, Scorpia shouts “heads up!” and throws a coat in Catra’s direction. It’s a Horde coat. Catra wants to rip it to shreds, to tear it apart, but it’s getting colder, and she knows now that the skiff probably isn’t the most practical vehicle to choose if they are going to run away to the Kingdom of Snows in the middle of winter.

“Entrapta?” Catra beckons her over.

“Yes?” 

“I have a mission for you.” Catra doesn’t even try to smile conspiratorially. She is exhausted.

“Oh, yes, please. I like missions. I understand those.”

“I need you to not tell anyone about the video files.”

“I take it back. I don’t understand. Why not? Won’t it help them be more sympathetic to us changing sides?”

Scorpia pats Entrapta’s shoulder. “Well, Entrapta, the thing is, it’s not really our thing to say.” Scorpia puts a claw around Entrapta and smiles sadly. “It’s Adora’s. We know about it, and maybe Adora doesn’t yet, but it’s still not our right to tell anyone.”

Entrapta furrows her brow, her hair coming forward to push her glasses up. “I guess”

“She’s not going to know about this.” Catra says quietly.

“Woah, what?” This time it’s Scorpia that grates on Catra.

She left her. Adora left her alone with Shadow Weaver, and even though things sucked for her too, or maybe because they did, Catra isn’t quite ready to face her. And she certainly doesn’t want to have the “oh, so Shadow Weaver sexually abused you for fifteen years,” conversation. Yeah. That doesn’t sound like anything she would want to do ever.

“We’re here.” Catra says, ignoring Scorpia and snuggling into her coat. “Time to beg for mercy, or whatever.”

\-- 

She hates this. She hates the way that Frosta has kept her and her friends locked in separate rooms for days, now. Hates feeling sick every time she thinks of Adora, hates how she wakes up to nightmares of those videos replaying in her head. She destroyed the video files, back when she killed Shadow Weaver. Doesn't want anyone else watching them. Doesn’t want them to infect the way people think of Adora. Strong, capable Adora is not a victim.

She rolls over onto her side, hugging her knees to her chest. Does Adora remember anything? For Adora’s sake, she hopes not. Maybe for her own sake too. Catra doesn’t want to imagine a world where Adora remembered and didn’t confide in her. But then she didn’t either, all those times Shadow Weaver would hurt her, throw her around the room, physically assault her. And Shadow Weaver didn’t even see fit to erase those memories. Catra wonders why, wonders who she could have been if the abuse she suffered had just been wiped away. Would she have been good like Adora? _Noble?_

When she hears the footsteps, she leaps up and leans against the wall casually, as though she had been standing there the whole time. She doesn’t want to be seen as weak, even if it is just Frosta, the most neutral princess she could find. The door clicks and opens, revealing the almost-twelve-year-old girl. Her glossy, blue-black hair shines in the winter light.

“My guards tell me that you wish to defect.” Frosta’s tone is icy, and Catra almost laughs at the irony. Instead, she smiles and tilts her head. Affecting nonchalance is something she’s done her entire life, and she isn’t going to stop now.

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“I have my reasons.” Catra inspects her nails and studiously ignores Frosta. 

“That’s not good enough! You destroyed my palace when it was neutral ground, you’ve killed people, and you think that you can just waltz in here and that’s it? We’ll forgive you?”

Catra rolls her eyes. “You don’t have to forgive me or understand me to use me. You don’t have to like me; you don’t even have to trust me. Hey, you can leave me locked up in this room if that’ll make you feel better. I’m not defecting from the Horde because I want - whatever. I have intel, stuff you can use for your little rebellion.

“And what are your conditions?” Frosta crosses her arms and looks up at Catra, still managing to look condescending, despite her lack of height.

“You don’t tell Adora. I’ll help, I’ll provide intel, I’ll take orders, but you can’t tell Adora I’m with you. You have to let her believe that I’m still with them.” Catra is looking straight at Frosta now.

Frosta’s eyes quirk. “That’s weird. Why don’t you want the She-Ra to know?”

Catra shrugs. “Because I don’t.”

Frosta uncrosses her arms to point at Catra.

“You have one chance to prove that this isn’t a trick. If you blow it, I’ll tell She-Ra, and I’ll send you back to the Horde. I can’t imagine they treat with traitors.”

Internally, Catra frets. Frosta is right. If Hordak knew what they were doing, he would send troops after her, not to retrieve her, but to assassinate her. Externally, Catra scoffs. “You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have chapter three lined up. Just needs some editing. :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adora remembers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, you guys have absolutely overwhelmed me with your kind words. So here's an angsty Adora chapter.

Her headaches are getting worse. Sometimes right in the middle of fights, sometimes so bad she can’t leave her bedroom, like now. She knows Glimmer and Bow worry, but mostly Adora hates feeling weak. She hates feeling like she isn’t in control of things, especially her own body. This particular migraine has lasted three days, and she’s had to ask them to turn off her waterfall because the noise reverberates in her head. 

The worst part is that there’s a fight coming, she can feel it in her core, and she knows that she needs to be part of it. What damage will Catra do in her absence, if Catra even shows up? The thought causes an emotion she doesn’t want to acknowledge to well up in her chest, so she pushes it away. 

This little crush on Catra has got to end. It makes her vulnerable. 

Adora opens her eyes to stare up at the ceiling. Catra. That was a fun realization. It's been a while, but when Catra swipes her tail against Adora’s wrist these days, it isn’t with the easy affection of their childhood. It’s charged, now. Intimate in a way that has nothing to do with a lifetime of friendship. Last time, Adora could have sworn that Catra was about to kiss her, and the smirk on Catra’s face when she pulled away - Catra knows she wants her. That’s the worst part! Adora is too easy to read, and Catra is using it. Or at least - when's the last time Adora even saw Catra? It's been months, hasn't it? She's probably busy being second-in-command now. 

But if things were different - and Adora is too sick to stop herself from fantasizing - what would Catra do if she were here? Even before Adora defected, Catra wouldn’t have coddled her colds. After everything that’s happened? She would definitely take advantage. Kill Adora, probably. So much for a happy fantasy. The thought is sobering but does nothing for the way Adora’s heart stutters when she thinks of Catra, the way she imagines what life would be like without the war. Catra’s lips on hers, her teeth sharp against her neck, holding her hands.

Adora started to mess around with her teammates when they were around fifteen. She’s pretty sure they’ve all fucked, the cadets who worked closely with one another. Kyle and Rogelio were alright but more interested in each other than Adora. Both way too gentle, and besides, she doesn’t think she likes boys. Lonnie was electric, her tongue soft and her touch firm, and she liked to be in charge. But Adora and Catra? That was a line that Catra had never wanted to cross, and no matter how much Adora wanted to try, she wouldn’t disrespect her friend’s wishes. At the time, Adora had understood Catra’s point. Now, when her head aches and her heart feels empty, she wonders if the reason Catra hadn’t wanted to experiment with her was because she just didn’t like her in that way, or if it was because Catra just didn’t want to be an experiment.

They’ve never even kissed, but Catra is all Adora thinks about when she wants to be comforted. It’s a double-edged sword, that. Late at night, Adora often finds her hand in her trousers, Catra’s name on her lips, and her face buried in a pillow. 

A particularly loud noise from outside makes her wince.

Gods, it’s been three days. It’s got to be getting better by now. She struggles to the light source and turns it on, only to cry out and turn it off again before collapsing to the ground. Damnit, she never got headaches in the Fright Zone. What is going on with her? Is it the sword? Is being She-Ra making her sick? If that’s the case, well, she doesn’t know what she’ll do.

There’s a slight knock at her door, and while she knows it’s soft, it still makes her head hurt.

“Come in,” she whispers.

Glimmer had promised that her mom could help. Adora doesn’t know with what, but when Queen Angella finds her crumpled by the light source, she kneels before her.

For a moment, Adora panics. Queen Angella can’t see her like this, a tired heap on the floor, too weak to move. Gods, what will she think?

“Adora?” Her voice is soft and soothing, and the way she pets Adora’s head feels nice and scary all at once. Why scary? Adora isn’t quite sure, but she feels panic rise in her chest as the queen picks her up and takes her to the bed. She freezes, then forces herself to relax. It’s just Queen Angella. She’s not Shadow Weaver; showing weakness isn’t a punishable offense in Bright Moon. 

Queen Angella is saying something. Time to focus! “... search through your mind. Perhaps there is a head trauma or some other unresolved issue causing your migraines as you are not responding to our medicines.”

“Mmhmm.” Adora agrees. See? Everything is okay. The queen is just going to make the pain stop. It feels like a hammer is trying to pound its way out of her skull, and it’s the worst. Pain relief sounds nice. 

Queen Angella puts her cool hands on either side of Adora’s head and closes her eyes. 

Adora watches the hands glow lightly, and the queen gasps. Adora is unsure why, but then, the pain intensifies into a pinprick right at the front of Adora’s head. It holds for a moment; Adora arches away from the bed before it bursts, and relief floods her system. The relief lasts only a moment before she feels a lifetime of memories slam into her. Images of Shadow Weaver, and what is she doing? What is happening? The memories are jumbled and confused, and they feel foreign. She pushes herself back onto the corner of the bed, looking up at Queen Angella, panic in every pore.

“What did you do to me?” Adora feels tears on her face. She hasn’t cried like this, desperate heaving sobs, since she was little. Wait, no, her new memories tell her that isn’t true. She cried every time that Shadow Weaver took away the memory of her--her what? Her rape? What the hell? Adora leaps from the bed wildly, backing away from the queen.

“I released some of the blocked memories,” Queen Angella begins, but doesn’t get to finish

“Some? You mean - there’s more?” Adora is full on panicking now, her breaths heaving and her stomach rolling.

The queen reaches for Adora as she slides down the wall in the far corner of the room. “We need to finish. I can help, I just need to - ”

“Please get out.”

Adora only has to ask once.

\--

“Adora!” Glimmer and Bow bound toward her, Glimmer teleporting halfway across. 

“What happened?” she asks, her voice curious and excited. “My mom won’t tell me, but you’re out of bed and you look--” she examines Adora for a moment. The joyful expression on her face shifts into concern.

Bow finally catches up. “You look awful, Adora. Are you sure you shouldn’t be asleep?”

“I’m sure.”

“Where are you going?” Bow calls after her as she storms away.

“To kill Shadow Weaver.” Adora winces as her head twinges.

Glimmer and Bow share a glance before Glimmer poofs in front of Adora.

“Why? Also, you're a bit late. Someone got to her first. We just received the news this morning, but she's been dead for ages.”

Adora stops short of trampling Glimmer at just the last second. She falters at the information; her hand clenches the hilt of her sword and her vision blurs. It’s not tears, she would never cry in front of anyone but - well, she used to cry in front of Catra, but that was very rarely. Then, of course, more recently alone in her room, it feels like she had been crying for years instead of a couple of days. And she won’t let anyone see it, won’t allow crying and whimpering and _weakness_ to be her legacy to the world. It will be She-Ra, not a broken woman made up of a broken child’s memories.

“Adora?” There’s no pity in Glimmer’s voice, not like in her mother’s, and that makes it more bearable. “Adora, are you okay?” Adora hears her dimly, but her legs fail her. She’s on the ground again, getting grass stains on her knees.

Bow is holding her, comforting, and Glimmer is looking at her, worrying, and Adora doesn’t know what to do or say. So she lets them hold her, and she allows their kindness. “I found something out about Shadow Weaver, and I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You don’t have to,” Bow assures her. They help her walk back to the castle and she retreats back into her bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What can I say? I have the weekend off, so I might as well make use of the time. To be frank, this pace can't continue, and as soon as Sunday rolls around, I will probably start posting once a week, but for now, I hope you have enjoyed.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It starts to get saucy here, but in a traumatized, coping mechanism sort of way.

“The Kingdom of Snows has a source of information that’s proven invaluable to the Rebellion for the past year. With their former neutrality, I am afraid that the Princess Frosta may have been swayed to join the Horde, and that this intelligence will run out at a crucial moment.” The queen takes a moment to pause, and Glimmer seizes the opportunity to speak.

“But mom, I mean, Your Highness, Frosta is our ally, now! With her, the rebellion has been beating back the Horde, reclaiming land. I mean, not even Adora had the intel to help us like this - ”

Queen Angella leans forward on the table, her head resting in her hand. “Yes, exactly. Where has this information come from? Frosta is not being forthcoming with the informant, and so we must find out by other means.”

Adora nods. “Yeah, no, that makes sense. We want to make sure she isn’t in Hordak’s pocket.” _Or Catra’s,_ Adora thinks. Catra. Adora wonders what Catra would do if she knew. Part of her believes that Catra wouldn’t care. The other part knows that it wouldn’t change anything even if she did. There’s a gulf between them now, and maybe there always was. It doesn’t help that she hasn’t seen Catra for ages, not on the battlefield or off. She’s probably too busy being second-in-command to actually battle anymore. She can send her minions to do her bidding. Still, it makes Adora feel lonely, even more so in the past month, since the worst of the headaches stopped and another, entirely more terrifying pain took up residence in her chest cavity.

Since the memory recovery, Queen Angella has carefully coaxed more out of Adora, slowly so as to not overwhelm her. A few memories a day, to ease the headaches. The queen seems unsure how to proceed, but Adora lets her take the reigns. She’s numb to it by now, for the most part. 

Oh. Oh, wait, how will she manage without their sessions?

“Queen Angella,” and Adora can’t help but keep the quaver out of her voice, “What about my, uh--my headache sessions?”

The queen turns to her. “I was thinking just Glimmer and Bow would go. I don’t know what would happen if we stopped the sessions now. Your headaches could return.”

“What if we, I dunno, finished the sessions? Like, tonight? Before we head out tomorrow?” She smiles confidently, faltering only slightly when Queen Angella just stares at her. 

“How does that work?” Glimmer asks, and Bow nudges her to silence her.

“Council adjourned. Adora, come. Walk with me.”

Glimmer and Bow share another look while Netossa and Spinnerella pointedly stand and leave.

“Uh, yes ma’am!” Adora swiftly follows suit. She always feels uneasy these days around Queen Angella. She did before the memories were returned to her. Now, she just feels like blown glass, at any moment a small breeze will tip her over and shatter her into a million tiny pieces. Queen Angella is kind and fair and nothing like Shadow Weaver. Adora has to keep reminding herself of that.

The Queen leads them to Adora’s room, opens the door, and motions inside. 

“Are you sure?” The Queen has compassion written all over her face, and pity, there’s the pity of course. 

Adora swallows. She wasn’t expecting Queen Angella to say yes. “I want to be useful again. I want to be helpful.” 

_I want you to stop looking at me like I’m broken,_ she thinks.

Queen Angella nods. “It could be too much, too quickly. It might make you ill again. I’m unsure - ”

“I’m willing to take that risk.”

Queen Angella’s gaze goes right through her. Adora honestly hates the idea that someone else can see her most secret, most humiliating memories, but she wants to get better. And she wants the worst to be over. 

“Alright. Lie on the bed.”

Adora’s stomach clenches, but she forces it to release. Nothing is going to happen. She can fight back if she needs to. She’s not a little girl anymore, but then she wasn’t either back in the Horde, not at the end. She bites her lip. No, Queen Angella is not Shadow Weaver. 

Adora finally obeys, climbing into her bed, breathing hard as Queen Angella raises her hands to her head to help unblock the magic. That’s all this is. A treatment

Adora doesn’t know how long it takes. Hours? The whole day? Queen Angella rifles through her memories like Adora would flip through a book, opening each page but never spending more than a fraction of a moment reading it.

One memory sticks out. Adora and Catra couldn’t have been older than ten. Catra was playing with some rocks, and Adora had managed to escape Shadow Weaver’s room this time.

“We’re running away,” Adora had said, grabbing Catra’s hand, pulling her to her feet.

Catra nodded enthusiastically. “Cool. Why?”

Adora faltered, then shrugged. “I’ll tell you later. Let’s go.”

Behind them, Shadow Weaver’s dark creatures chased, Catra darting everywhere and Adora struggling to catch up. One of the creatures caught Adora by her collar, and Shadow Weaver loomed. 

“Oh, Adora. You’ll never leave me.”

Adora screamed Catra’s name, is screaming it now, and the queen releases her.

“Adora. Adora, it’s fine, you’re alright, you’re fine.” Queen Angella’s voice is soft and smooth. 

Adora hiccups and wipes her tears on her sleeve. “Is that it? Is that the last of it?”

“Yes, that was everything. There are older memories, of course, but those are inaccessible as you would have been too young to remember them regardless. Even I can’t manage--” She stops then, takes stock of Adora shivering in her bed and clenching her fists. “Adora, do you want me to send Glimmer and Bow in?” 

She asks this every time. Adora knows the queen is only trying to help her, but she is sick of the pity, and she knows that if she told Glimmer and Bow, she would implode from their worry. She shakes her aching head. Okay, maybe not the brightest thing to have done. “I think I just need to rest. I’ll be there tomorrow morning. Please don’t let them leave without me.”

Queen Angella nods, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Drink plenty of water. Remember that we are all here for you should you require anything.”

“Thanks.”

\--

Adora feels sick with herself, but after the month she’s had, she just wants some comfort, some relief. Surely she’s allowed that. She pushes the window shut so that her cries will be muffled because hah, she really doesn’t need anyone else knowing how much she misses Catra; the queen is already one too many people, and the only reason she knows is because - yeah.

When she lies in her bed, top off, she allows her hands to roam, over her breasts, her neck, her belly. She foregoes memories of the past and instead imagines a world where Catra comes to her in the night, they save everyone from the Horde together, and - and what? She pretends she isn’t damaged? Adora blinks and refocuses, shutting memories of Shadow Weaver out and instead focusing on the idea of Catra in her suit. 

Adora remembers when she had commissioned it. It wasn’t too long ago, only a few months before Adora left the Horde. Well, almost two years now. She’d saved up her credits for ages, and Adora had made fun of her, but even she was silent when Catra walked out, ears down, vulnerability written all over her face.

“How does it look? I don’t know how to tie this stupid bow.”

She looked stunning. Adora laughed and pulled her close by her lapels.

“Like this, Catra.”

Their faces had been so close, close enough that - 

Her breath halts as her fingers find her nipples. She ghosts her fingers over the sensitive skin, her hands a warm contrast to the cool night air, and takes the memory to turn it into a fantasy. She thinks of Catra kissing her, leaning her against the wall, running her fingers through Adora’s hair, her claws caressing her face, all in that damnable suit.

“Catra,” she moans.

A shadow passes over her and she sits up, scrambling to pull the bedcovers over her bare breasts, only to find a wide-eyed Catra watching her outside of her bedroom window.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uh, I know I'm bombarding the lot of you with tons of chapters. I hope that's ok? If you'd rather I space them out a bit, I can start doing that too, but if I don't post it, I obsess over quality, and then it takes forever for me to finish. 
> 
> Let me know what you guys want. :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've caught my poor wife's cold, so bear with me. Also, I've rewritten this chapter like ten times and scrapped about 6k words. It's been a really intense day. I hope you enjoy!

The first thought that creeps into Adora’s head as she stares at Catra is that it isn’t Catra. The intel they’ve had about Shadow Weaver’s death is wrong, and Shadow Weaver is going to try and hurt her again. Fuck. _Fuck!_

Adora scrambles to throw a shirt over herself but makes no move to open the window any further than it already is. She only glares through the glass. 

“Hey, Adora.” That Shadow Weaver has taken the form of the person Adora wants the most is so messed up. “What were you doing?” She even has the smirk down. 

“You’re not real. You’re not Catra.” Adora can feel her eyes narrow, even as she fights off the sick feeling that Shadow Weaver was watching her touch herself. 

Not-Catra looks confused. “Um. Who else would I be?”

“Leave me alone, Shadow Weaver. I’m not in the mood for your mind-games. I know what you did to me. It’s over.”

A sinister smile creeps over not-Catra’s face, and her voice changes, even if the shape she takes doesn’t. Tendrils of darkness tower over Adora, shrinking until they wrap around her body.

“Did you think it would be that easy to escape me, Adora? After everything, surely you know by now that you - ” 

Adora gasps herself awake. She is shivering in the cold night air, her window left wide open. Adora reaches to shut it fully. 

“Shadow Weaver is dead,” she whispers, but she doesn’t believe it.

She takes up guard the rest of the night, jerking herself awake every so often. When the sun rises, it is almost a relief. She walks down to Glimmer’s room and knocks softly on the door.

“Just a minute!” Glimmer calls through the door. Adora hears muffled voices and a clang before Glimmer opens it. She’s flustered, smiling, and looks embarrassed.

“Hi! Uh, I’ll be ready soon.”

“Who’s in there with you?” Adora asks. “Anyone I know?”

“What, no! I mean, there’s no one. Just, uh, you know. Little old me.”

Adora smirks and shrugs. This is so weird, but it almost feels normal. And nice. It’s nice to have a sliver of normality in her life. Her friend being embarrassed about sex feels like a normal thing. “Alright. None of my business who you take to bed,” and begins to turn away when Glimmer pulls her into the room.”

“You can’t tell my mom.”

Adora looks at her quizzically before her eyes drift up to the bed. There she sees Bow, a pink pillow in front of his midsection and a flush on his cheeks.

Adora tilts her head, then shrugs. “I wouldn’t have guessed it, but hey, you do you.”

“It’s not like that!” Bow protests, but Adora rolls her eyes. 

“Like I said--”

“We’re gay!” Bow shouts.

Adora raises both her eyebrows. “Um. Me, too. But uh - this makes less sense with the context.”

Bow flounders on the bed, pulling on his trousers. 

“We wanted to try and see - I mean, we think we’re gay, but we wanted to be sure.” Glimmer says as she teleports to get Bow off her bed. 

“How’d that go?” For the first time in a month, Adora wants to hug them, and she can’t stop the full belly-aching joy of laughter that bubbles up inside of her. She loves them. She really loves them. 

“Hey, why are you laughing!” Glimmer pouts, but then Bow starts to laugh too, and pretty soon, they’re all holding their bellies. Adora’s on the floor, mirthful tears streaming down her face, and only recovers when a knock comes at the door.

She pokes her head out as Glimmer and Bow compose themselves. A guard tells her that Queen Angella would like to see them all before they head off to the Kingdom of Snows. She hands a piece of paper to Adora and Adora thanks her.

She closes the door behind herself and looks at her friends, only to start laughing again.

\--

The journey to the Kingdom of Snows is quiet, uneventful, and full of laughter. Swift Wind keeps asking what the joke is, but the Best Friend Squad keep their silence.

Reaching Frosta’s Palace is no easy feat. Its heavy fortifications mean that the only way to get in through land is if they let you in. Thankfully, Glimmer, Bow, and Adora all seem to be on the guest list.

They’re walking through the evergreen forest towards the palace when she hears conversation. It sounds like - Catra and Entrapta? But that’s not possible. Catra’s back at the Horde, and Entrapta’s dead. Her stomach churns, but just as she’s about to go investigate, Glimmer takes her arm and points to a clearing. “Did you see that?”

“See what?”

“I thought - I thought I saw Entrapta’s hair. But she’s not - Bow said she’s not - ”

“I saw her die.” Bow’s voice is quiet. “It can’t be her.”

Adora clears her throat. “I heard voices earlier. They sounded like Catra and Entrapta.” 

Bow and Glimmer share a look of concern.

“What do you think is going on?” Glimmer asks.

“What if the intel on Shadow Weaver was wrong. What if she’s still alive?” The thought makes her feel sick.

“You think she’s messing with our minds?” Bow theorizes.

“I mean, maybe. I saw something last night in my room. Didn’t sleep. But I don’t know if it was a nightmare, or if she was really there. I just don’t know. What if--”

“No way. I killed that bitch.” Adora recognizes that voice as a figure pounces in front of them. Bow quickly retrieves his arrows and Glimmer moves into a fighting position. Adora just stands there.

Quickly coming into view behind Catra are Entrapta and a woman Adora has never actually spoken to but used to admire: Force Captain Scorpia. Except, she isn’t wearing a Force Captain badge. In fact, neither is Catra. 

This doesn’t feel like last night, but it also doesn’t seem real.

“Entrapta?” Glimmer asks.

Entrapta merely scowls. “You guys left me behind. But Catra says we have to be friends with you now because--” Scorpia nudges her and interrupts

“Because we’ve realized the Horde isn’t something we want to be a part of.” Scorpia smiles and introduces herself. “Gosh, hi Adora, heard lots of good things about you!”

“You’re alive!” Bow says.

Entrapta’s shoulders hunch forward. “No thanks to you guys. I was there for almost two days before I realized you weren’t coming back for me. That’s not what friends do.”

“We thought you’d been vaporized, we didn’t--” Bow begins, but Adora isn’t falling for this.

“Bow, Glimmer, they aren’t real. Remember when we visited Mystacor? This is like then.” Adora glowers, but she knows she can’t fight these shadows, not in any way that matters. “This is what I saw last night.”

Catra saunters forward, and Adora steps back. “C’mon Adora. If I was one of Shadow Weaver’s minions, could I do this?” She reaches forward to boop Adora and Adora jerks backward, but not fast enough to avoid Catra’s cool claw on her nose. She stumbles, only for Glimmer to catch her.

That convinces her. “What are you doing here, Catra?” Adora’s voice shakes. She hasn’t seen Catra in a year! How did she manage to get into Frosta’s palace grounds? What is she doing here anyway? Is she here to catch the Horde defector? Adora has so many questions, and Catra’s cavalier expression is pissing her off.

“I’m here to help, dummy. I’ve been with the rebellion for almost a year, now. Question is, what are _you _doing here?”__

__She gapes. “You’re the defector? Adora rushes toward Catra and pushes her to the ground. “I gave you tons of chances to join the Rebellion, and you never took them!”_ _

__Catra leg comes out to knock Adora’s feet right from under her, and Adora comes crashing down on top of her._ _

__“Maybe you just didn’t give me the right motivation, princess.” Catra flips over so that she’s on top of Adora now, and Adora’s hands are pinned to her sides._ _

__“Hoookay.” Scorpia rushes forward, picks Catra up off of Adora, and sets her back down before helping Adora up as well. “That’s enough you two. Frosta is waiting for us, and I think it’s time we all finally communicated.”_ _


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They finally talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took me like three hours to write, no lie. I'm so pleased with it, and the next one is ready too, but I'll probably post that one tomorrow? Maybe next week? Depends on whether or not this rotten cold gets the better of me. Again, thank my wife. If not for her help with the last chapter, this one wouldn't be up right now.

Scorpia is right, Catra realizes. She needs to talk to Adora. It’s so hard, though, when she’s got that righteous anger thing going for her. Catra’s always been second best to Adora, even in this stupid rebellion. She can feed intel, but only because Entrapta messed with basically every bit of tech back at the Fright Zone and can hack it all remotely. They even managed to hack Imp, which was a feat. Entrapta managed it by hacking another bot and spreading it like a virus, or something. Catra doesn’t really have a knack for electronics. Entrapta has assured her that it’s not anything would alert Hordak. She really hopes Entrapta is right. It would be just like Hordak to let them think they’ve got a leg-up.

Still, there’s something more important to deal with, and that’s Adora being here, like a bug in the system. Fuck, Catra’s spent way too much time around Entrapta.

She shifts impatiently as Adora and the sparkle twins greet Frosta.

Now, Frosta, she’s an interesting kid, even if Catra values her life too much to say the “kid” part out loud. She’s a surprisingly good general for being almost thirteen. Hey, she’s a pretty good general regardless. She’s a natural at chess, too. Catra has only beat her the one time, the first game they played where Frosta was learning the rules, and she’s never been one to let someone win out of pity. Neither is Frosta, and Catra can respect that. Still, Frosta can be cold when she wants to be, and she can tell that the princess isn’t a huge fan of Adora’s.

“Hey, Your Majesty?”

“Yes, Catra?”

“Mind if I take Adora to the side for a moment? We really do need to catch up.”

Catra gives her most charming grin, and Frosta smiles for the first time since Adora and her friends have gotten here.

“Alright. But bring her back when you’re done. We need to discuss strategy now that the Rebellion leaders know about you.” She turns to Adora, her smile fading but her expression less stern. “You can go. I’ll continue with Glimmer and Bow.”

“But Your Majesty - ” Adora begins.

The upturn of Frosta’s mouth quickly flips and Adora notices. “Um - I think I’m going to go follow Catra.”

Before Adora can turn, Frosta tells her, “Please remember that all of our major gains have been due to Catra’s newfound allegiance to the Rebellion. Don’t do anything to jeopardize this, She-Ra.”

Adora nods stiffly and follows Catra.

\--

She smirks at Adora’s reaction. Her eyes are practically sparkling, and her daze as she touches everything is hilarious and adorable. Catra freezes but allows herself the thought: Adora has always been cute.

“There’s an honest-to-the-gods training room here?” She swings her leg into a roundhouse kick, hunching her shoulders as she goes into the classic boxing stance and starts on the punching bag, _jab, cross, hook, jab, jab, cross, jab, hook._

“Yeah. Pretty neat, huh? Frosta had it built for me and Scorpia.”

Adora lets her shoulders relax. Her gaze on Catra feels like a Laser-beam, hot and focused. It becomes equal parts quizzical and vulnerable, and Catra thinks Adora is going to cry.

“Is this a dream?” Her voice sounds sad. That’s okay. Catra can work with that.

“No,” she scoffs. She leans forward and flicks Adora’s forehead.

“Ow!”

“See? Not a dream.”

Oh. Oh, no. 

Tears are sprouting from Adora’s eyes, like some sort of burst pipe.

“Um. Adora?”

“I need to tell you something,” Adora says, her voice low and choked.

“What?”

“I - you know how Shadow Weaver always picked on you? I’m sorry I never stopped it. I’m so sorry I never protected you. I should have. I tried to leave with you, I swear, a dozen times we tried to escape, but Shadow Weaver took away our memories, and I’m just so sorry I didn’t try harder.”

Catra’s heart constricts. This, or some version of it, is all she’s wanted for ages, but this is new information. “Wait, we tried to escape? How do you know that she took away our memories?”

Adora wipes her tears on her shirt and sniffles. “I was having headaches. Shadow Weaver took away a ton of my memories when I was still in the Fright Zone, and uh - we unblocked them. Queen Angella and me.”

Catra stares at her, and suddenly, it’s urgent she that she know. “When was this, Adora.”

“About a month ago? Trust me, it’s been a rough one.”

Catra bites her lip. Okay, so she didn’t know before. Wait, does she know now?

“Adora, I found something out.” Here, she swallows around the lump in her throat. “I found something out about Shadow Weaver. It’s the reason I killed her.”

“What?” There are dark circles underneath Adora's eyes, and she just looks so tired. Catra isn’t sure she should even be saying this, but once she starts, she finds she can’t stop. “I should’ve known. I should’ve known because you always smelled like her. I mean, you sometimes smelled like her, like not-you, and I should’ve realized, and I’m sorry too. I’m so sorry. I just, I should’ve protected you too.”

Adora’s voice is raised like she’s about to panic. “What are you talking about, Catra?”

“A year ago, when I killed her. The reason I killed her. I found a video file. It was you, in Shadow Weaver’s room. There were hundreds of hours of video, Adora. Hundreds.”

“She took videos?” Adora sounds lost. She sounds like she’s not listening anymore, but Catra pushes on.

“It was so twisted. It was disgusting, what she did to you. She might not have hit you, but she did - she did rape you. And I should’ve known! Maybe not when we were kids, but when we got older. I guess I thought - I don’t know. I guess I thought she was just training you? But maybe I just didn’t think too hard about it. Maybe I didn’t think about it because I didn’t want to believe you had it as bad as - worse than - I did. I think I was maybe even jealous, which is so wrong because I thought she loved you, I thought she liked you better, and maybe she did, but - ”

“Catra. Shut up. Shut up, shut up, _shut up!”_

Catra obeys. She doesn’t know what to do with herself now. Adora is sat on a training step, her hands in her hair, breathing steadily like she’s trying to calm down..

“I love you.” Catra says. Not to be comforting, not to be obnoxious, but because it’s true.

She says it again, feels the words in her mouth. “I love you.”

Maybe not the best timing.

“Shut up. You _love_ me? Shut up, because I swear to the gods I can’t handle this. How long did you even know?” A hysterical giggle escapes Adora. “No, you’ve known. That’s why you left the Horde, isn’t it.”

It’s not a question, not really, but Catra answers anyway. “Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you’re not a victim! Because you’re strong, and I didn’t want to see you like this.” Catra admits. 

“I’m allowed to be like this!” Adora explodes.

“I know. I’m sorry - ”

“I’m allowed to be a victim. Trust me, I hate it too, but you don’t get to decide how I feel.” 

Catra nods. She knows that. “Do you want me to tell the others you’ll be a while?”

“Good idea. I need to be alone.”

“Okay.” Catra pauses before the door and lets her hand rest on Adora’s shoulder. “If you need anything, anything at all. I’m here, okay? I’m here. I’ll protect you, and you’ll protect me, but for real, this time.” 

Catra leaves, but not quickly enough to escape the sound of Adora’s heart splitting in two. Maybe it would have been better if she hadn't said anything at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes? No? Share your comments below. Let me know what works for you and what doesn't. Thanks!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for (perceived?)attempted assault by shadow tendrils. Yes it is almost 5 in the morning. No, I haven't slept. Enjoy? Except for what I mentioned, it should be a fairly enjoyable chapter I hope.

Stupid. They’re probably making plans without her, all because she decided to have a hysterical breakdown. Gods, she’s dumb. So predictable. She doesn’t even want to be a victim! Why’d she shout at Catra like that? And when did Catra become so mature? Gods, this is all messed up; she supposed to be the one who gets to be all high and migh - 

“Adora.” A chill runs through Adora’s blood. Is she asleep again? She pinches herself just to be sure, and ouch, nope; she’s awake. The terror grows anew as the lights fade from the room and a figure emerges from thin air.

“Adora, where are you? Come here, Adora. I have a surprise for you.”

Adora can’t tell if she’s reliving a memory or if this is Shadow Weaver, alive and well and come to fuck her up again.

“Go away. Haven’t you done enough?” The tremor in her voice is unlike her, but hey, there it is. She can’t help the gnawing fear clawing in her chest, or the looming voice in her head. It’s in her head, right? Gods, please let this be in her head.

“She doesn’t love you, Adora. Not like _I_ love you. You must know that.”

The shadows in the room breed darker shadows, and Adora freezes in panic. She reaches for her sword, but she left it in the Great Hall with Glimmer. A shadow wraps around her hand, hard and demanding and frightening, stronger than any shadow has the right to be. Adora strains against it.

“I quite liked what you were doing last night. Now say _my_ name, instead.” The tendril of darkness pulls her hand to her breast and Adora doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know how to fight back, so she screams, and suddenly, the darkness fades.

She slumps against the wall and composes herself only for a moment before running out of the room.

\--

Food is lovely in theory, but Adora has her back up the whole time. Between the mental break she had in the training room and the way Frosta ignores her, it’s an uncomfortable dinner party. At least she’s gotten better at not devouring everything in sight, but she realizes that Catra and Scorpia have no such qualms. They scarf down everything within reach, and instead of being annoyed, Frosta seems to find it charming. What on Etheria have those two done to win Frosta over so completely after blowing up her castle?

Now that it’s over, she’s shown to a room, all draped in blue and full of furs. She realizes that Bright Moon has fewer shadows. She’s alone in her quarters only for about five minutes before she stumbles into the hall, finds the nearest guard, and asks the woman to take her to Catra’s room. The guard hesitates for a second but eventually acquiesces to Adora’s request.

The guard leads her to a room with a smaller door than her own, then she leaves, and Adora knocks.

Catra opens the door. “Yea--hey, Adora.” Her cheerful expression quickly melts into something else, something Adora can’t discern. She used to be able to read Catra like a book. Now, they’re practically strangers. “Come to yell at me some more?”

Adora shakes her head. “Can I come in?”

“Uh, sure.” Adora ducks in and sees a perfectly clean room, smaller than the one offered to herself but still generously furnished. So Catra can’t shake her military past, either. The room looks like a soldier’s, but with more character. There are some schematics and blueprints of Fright Zone buildings that Adora can recognize, and also some beautiful drawings. Mostly of Scorpia and Entrapta, even some of Frosta and a couple of the guards, but the drawing that gets to her is one of herself. She’s smiling, but she still looks sad.

“These are beautiful,” Adora says. “I didn’t know you could draw.”

“Yeah, well. I didn’t either. Frosta is teaching me.”

“Why do I look sad in this one?” Adora reaches to touch it but refrains at the last moment.

Catra shrugs but is forthcoming with an answer. “You looked like that a lot of the time when you thought people weren’t paying attention.”

Adora swallows around the sudden lump in her throat. Of course, Catra caught on to those subtleties.

“I wanted to apologize.” The words cost Adora more than she realized they would. She doesn't want to apologize, but she wants to make things better.

“Kay.”

Adora resists the urge to roll her eyes and instead says, “I’m sorry I blew up at you.”

Catra shrugs, leaning against the wall and looking at Adora like she’s waiting for more. Adora doesn’t know what else to say, so she sits on one of the stools and lets her hands clench at her side. So much for being there no matter what. Adora reminds herself to breathe.

“So, uh, is that all? It’s getting pretty late.”

“Are you sure Shadow Weaver is dead?” She blurts out.

Catra pushes off the wall with her shoulder, her tail twitching. “Yeah. Yeah, I killed her dead. Promise.”

“It’s just that - I keep having these visions.”

“Doesn’t She-Ra get visions? Isn't that, like, your thing or whatever?” Catra asks.

“Sometimes, but these aren’t, like, mystical visions. They’re more like when Shadow Weaver sent her shadow minion things after me that time that Glimmer and Bow and me went to Mystacor. They feel so real, and she tries--” Adora stumbles here-- “she tries to hurt me again.”

Something in Catra’s expression melts and she comes to kneel in front of Adora. “She’s dead. I threw an explosive in her cell and closed the field. It was concentrated and brutal, and there’s no way anyone could have survived that.”

Adora feels young again, like she’s looking for Catra’s assurance. That used to be the thing that mattered most to her.

“Can I sleep here tonight?” The way Catra’s eyes widen freaks Adora out. “I mean, just because the visions only ever come when I’m alone.”

“Why not ask Glitter and what-his-face?” Catra’s petulance is endearing. She’s jealous, and for once, it doesn’t feel like a wedge between them.

“Glimmer and Bow,” Adora corrects automatically. Catra scoffs and stands, an arm on her hip and a pointed look directed at Adora. “Because I miss you,” she admits.

Catra considers her for a moment. Then, “Okay. Bed’s big enough for two, anyways.”

Adora hesitates. “I don’t have to sleep on the bed. The floor’s fine.”

“Don’t be stupid. Unless - ” Catra seems unsure. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Adora puts her hands out. “No, it’s not that! I just don’t wanna make _you_ uncomfortable.”

Catra rolls her eyes, but there’s no heat in it. “Come on, dummy. I miss you, too.”

Adora shrugs off her jacket and takes Catra’s hand. It takes a few moments for them to settle into the bed. It’s soft, but not as soft as most of the beds in Bright Moon, and for the first time in a month, nightmares don’t bother her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh no! They're in the same bed! Whatever is going to happen in the next chapter? *waggles eyebrows*
> 
> Yeah, next chapter the rating is going up, but not because of abuse stuff. I haven't slept all night getting the next chapter prepped, and it's like almost twice the length of the normal chapters AND IT'S NOT EVEN FINISHED YET.
> 
> Please leave your comments! They literally keep me going. Like an energizer bunny feeding off the pain of my readers. No, but seriously, if it weren't for you guys, I literally don't think I would've written like 11k words in the span of less than 60 hours.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just pure fluff, guys. Enjoy.

Catra wakes to a scent that is both unfamiliar and familiar; underneath the perfume and the frilly soap, she smells Adora, and she inhales deeply. Gods, she never thought she’d wake up to that smell again. Adora smells like home, but not in the sense of acrid smoke and metal and the Fright Zone. She smells like herself, and it’s the most comforting thing Catra has known since Adora’s defection. 

Also, Catra smiles, Adora is having a one of _those_ kinds of dreams. She can tell. The scent shouldn’t be intoxicating, but it is. In an effort to respect her friend, Catra shifts to dislodge her, but Adora whimpers her name. Catra freezes. The sound went straight to her core.

What?

“Hey, Adora,” Catra whispers. “Adora, wake up.”

Adora does not wake up. Instead, she snuggles closer to Catra. “Please, Catra. Please don’t stop,” she mumbles.

Catra’s mind whirs like one of Entrapta’s machines. She kicks Adora, but she can’t help but notice the way that Adora’s lips glisten as her eyes flash open.

“Ow! What was that for?”

Catra scrambles for a lie. “You were digging your arm into my stomach.”

Adora sits up and pulls her leg up to massage it. “You didn’t have to kick me.”

“Yeah, well.” And then, because Catra doesn’t know how to let things lie, “Did you know you talk in your sleep? That’s new.”

Adora blushes from her blonde roots to where her shirt meets her neck. “I didn’t. What did I say?”

“Please, please don’t stop!” Catra mocks in a higher pitch than her own, and Adora takes one of the pillows to thump it over Catra’s head. “Dreaming about Lonnie?” Catra knows she wasn’t, but allows Adora to keep the shreds of her dignity.

Adora tilts her head. “Lonnie? Why Lonnie?”

Catra shrugs. “Because you enjoyed her _company_ more than anyone else’s.” Adora looks like she’s about to protest, so Catra stops her. “I mean sexually, dummy.”

It’s not possible, but Adora’s flush deepens. “Yeah, well. She was good at what she did. Besides, the person I really wanted didn’t want me back.” Welp, so much for the shreds of her dignity and all that. Turns out, Adora doesn’t give a shit. Who knew?

Still, Catra can’t help but admire her bravado, even as she splutters, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

Adora takes Catra’s hand, and when she speaks, her voice trembles with something Catra doesn’t want to understand. It’s alright, though, because Adora makes it clear. “I always wanted you, Catra. But it’s okay that you didn’t want me.” 

Catra snatches her hand away and looks down at the bedsheets. This is dangerous territory. Figuring out what they feel for each other in a secluded room with pale winter light, a soft bed - it’s so different from a barracks full of snoring kids. They’re actually alone. But hey, Adora started this. Catra’s just finishing it.

“It’s not that I didn’t want you.” There, that’s the worst of it. “I just didn’t want to share you. I still don’t.” Well, maybe not. Catra plows on, “And don’t tell me I’m making things up. I know how those princesses look at you when you’re She-Ra. About the only one who doesn’t drool all over you is Frosta, and that’s because she’s still a kid.” Catra snickers. “And also because she can’t stand you.” She can feel Adora looking at her. “Don’t tell me you haven’t fucked the princesses. I know you. That’s your M.O.”

“That’s not fair,” Adora says. “You don’t get to be bitter when you were the one who turned me down first! Besides,” Adora’s voice turns contemplative. “It was just with Perfuma and Mermista.”

Catra sharply lifts her head and Adora scowls. “Don’t look at me like that. It’s not like you haven’t found solace in other people. You've had more partners than I have. It's not a bad thing, but you of all people don't get to judge. I was lonely, and they were there. But they didn’t mean anything. I don’t think Perfuma cared about how I felt, but I think I might have hurt Mermista’s feelings. It’s a shame. She’s nice, but she’s not you.”

“This is what I mean,” Catra says, her ears flicking forward. “I can’t share you.”

“If you’d asked, you wouldn’t have had to. If I’d known you wanted me too…”

The admission lies between them, a tender thing. Catra could destroy it. She doesn't want to. But then, she’s always been one to break fragile things. Adora’s the one with the people skills; Catra’s just a skiff-wreck waiting to happen.

Good thing Adora takes the lead, then. She puts her hand on Catra’s jaw and turns Catra’s head to face her. 

“Can I kiss you?”

Catra nods but doesn’t wait for Adora to initiate. She leans in too quickly and they bump noses. 

Adora giggles. “Ow-mmmph,” her protest is stopped short when Catra takes the opportunity as it’s presented to her, angling her lips so that they fit just so.

Her chest feels like it’s going to burst. She’s wanted to kiss Adora ever since they were teenagers in the Fright Zone, ever since she knew what kissing was, but this surpasses anything she’d ever imagined.

Adora pulls away, laughing. “Your claws're digging into my leg.”

“So?” Catra says, leaning in for another kiss but sheathing her claws anyway. She’s drunk on it, on Adora’s kisses, on the way Adora moans when Catra’s teeth scrape her lip. She grabs Adora’s wrists with her hands, but Adora whimpers, so Catra lets go. She can’t tell if it’s a good sound or a bad one.

“Too much?” She asks, worried, but Adora shakes her head, her eyes glazed over. 

“No, it was - it was nice. I like - ” Adora stutters - “I’ve always liked being restrained, which in light of recent events is probably, definitely, pretty fucked up, and - ”

Catra kisses her. She doesn’t want Shadow Weaver to ruin this, too. “We’ll do what you like, and if you want to stop, we’ll stop.”

Adora falters, is about to say something when Catra raises a finger against her own mouth. Adora seems to get the message because she doesn’t continue. Catra’s right ear twitches forward, trying to discern who’s outside the bedroom. It’s just Scorpia, she thinks. It smells like her. A piece of paper slips through underneath the door and her footsteps move away. Only when Catra is satisfied that Scorpia is gone does she put her finger back down by her side.

Adora is staring at her, desire plain in the way her pupils have expanded, her breaths are heaving, and her scent has intensified.

“What?”

“I think I liked you shutting me up.”

“Really?” Catra grins. “I didn’t even touch you.”

“Yeah. Um, you can totally cover my mouth next time you want me to be quiet.” 

Catra laughs and purrs, pressing forward to meet Adora’s mouth again. She’s soft and pliable and _oh so easy._

“I think kissing you quiet is nicer. Lie down,” Catra suggests. 

Adora obeys, no hesitation. “Yes, ma’am,” she says, and Catra can tell she didn’t mean to by the way that her eyes go big, but hell, Catra _likes_ it.

Catra feels an eyebrow shoot up. “You like to surrender control, huh, Adora?”

Adora nods, biting her lip in a vulnerable way. Catra wants to devour her like this, eat her whole. She smirks. Maybe she will. 

She slowly guides Adora’s hands over her head and holds them there with her left hand, gauging her reaction.

“This okay?”

“Yeah,” Adora squirms a bit.

With her other hand, she eases Adora’s shirt over her belly.

“Catra,” Adora whispers. Catra hesitates. She doesn’t know if this is too much or not. Adora looks up at her, eyes lidded.

“You’ll tell me if something’s not okay, understand?” Catra can play the domme, has done a number of times, but it’s got to be something they both want. 

Adora whimpers her understanding. “Yes ma’am.”

“Good girl.” Adora fairly keens at that, her hips rolling against the bed. Catra smiles down at her.

“Please,” Adora begs.

“Please what, princess?” Okay, so maybe Catra enjoys power play more than she’s letting on. She just wants so badly to make Adora happy. She just _wants._

“Please. More, I need more,” Adora gasps, wriggling her hips again.

“Wow, you get riled up easy.”

“You’re teasing.” Adora releases a puff of air. It almost sounds like laughter.

“Yup!” Catra leans down to nip at Adora’s lip just as she slides her knee between Adora’s legs. 

“I like that!” Adora moans. “Oh gods, I like that a lot.”

Bracing herself on the bed, Catra lifts up Adora’s shirt the rest of the way with her teeth. True to form, Adora never wears a bra to sleep. Makes for easy access, now.

Adora’s head falls back to the pillow, and Catra flattens her tongue against Adora’s nipple. Adora goes stock still, and then her hips find purchase against Catra’s leg. Gods, Catra can feel her heat through both their clothes.

“Oh yes. Yes, please. Catra, _please.”_

“You keep saying pretty words, sweetheart,” Catra speaks around Adora’s nipple, “But you never quite ask for enough.”

“Please, f-fuck me!”

Catra ignores Adora’s request. “Not yet, babe. We’ve gotta warm you up, first.”

Using her hands on Adora’s wrists for purchase, she opens up Adora’s trousers. Horde-issued khaki. Nothing special about them except that they’re soaked in Adora’s scent, but hey, that’s plenty special enough for Catra.

Catra struggles to remove them with just one hand.

“Lift up”

“Huh?”

“Your butt. Lift it up.”

Adora laughs but obeys, giggling as Catra slowly, agonizingly - she hopes - slips off her trousers and knickers all in one go. The smell is heady.

“Fuck,” Catra breathes.

“Yes, please!” Adora sighs.

Catra chuckles at that. It’s cute how much Adora wants her. Sexy. Yeah, definitely sexy. Catra takes it all in: Adora half dressed and desperate, her legs parting frantically, restrained by her hand. _I love you,_ she thinks, but the time isn’t right to say it, not like this. Later. 

She leans forward to where Adora’s thighs gleam with slick and inhales. “You smell amazing,” she smiles, because she never thought she’d be here. 

“Please. Catra, please, I need _more.”_

Catra descends on Adora, but not where Adora wants. She licks and nips at her neck, her knee between Adora’s legs, and moves her mouth down, down toward her nipples. Adora’s sweat is salty and her skin is sweet and her moans are intoxicating. Gods, where has this been all of her life? She finds Adora’s pulse point, the smell of her blood calling to Catra, and Catra bites down maybe a little bit harder than necessary, but Adora _likes_ it if the way she rubs herself all over Catra’s leg is any indication.

“You’re driving me crazy.” Adora says into her hair.

“Me, too,” Catra admits.

She takes the hand restraining Adora’s wrists away and Adora cries at the lack of it, makes an even nicer sound when Catra runs her fingers through her pretty folds. 

“Oh my gods. Catra, I want--I want--” Her strong hands find purchase in Catra’s hair, and it drives Catra wild.

“You want what, Adora?” It comes out more breathless than she means for it to.

“I want your fingers inside of me. Please. I’ll do anything. Anything, Catra.”

“Anything?” She circles Adora’s clit with her finger before running it down to Adora’s entrance.

“Yes, _please,”_ she positively whines. Well, Catra isn’t one to deny her lovers pleasure. Not for long, anyway. 

She eases her index finger inside of Adora, and the way Adora’s walls clench around her finger is positively luxurious. “You’re so sexy, you know.” Adora tightens as she says this, her hips moving erratically against Catra’s fingers. Catra adds her middle finger and Adora starts shaking her head.

“No?” Catra asks.

“No, yes! It just--it feels so good. You’re all I’ve ever wanted for so long and - ” She cuts off with a squeal as Catra uses her thumb to coax more from her clit. “Catra, Catra, I - I - ”

“Shh, you’re doing so good, babe. It’s okay. I’ve got you.” Catra can feel Adora’s walls fluttering around her fingers. “That’s right. You’re doing so, so good. Look at me. It’s just me. It’s just us.”

Adora’s eyes roll back and her hips freeze. She’s holding her breath, Catra can tell, and as she comes, Catra can feel Adora’s wetness dripping down her hand, her walls spasming erratically around her fingers. Adora is so quiet when she breaks, like this is _sacred._

Catra holds her afterward, kissing her sex-flushed skin and soothing her furrowed brow. When Adora tries to reciprocate, Catra pulls away. “Next time. We need to get up, babe.”

Adora groans exaggeratedly, a lump in a pile of blue blanket. Then, sheepishly, “I like when you call me babe and sweetheart. It’s sweet--and I don’t know. I like it.”

“I did do that, huh.” Catra muses. Her claws are back, and she lets one slide down to where Adora’s back sports scars. “I did these too.”

Adora tenses up, but allows Catra to continue her solemn ministrations. 

“They’ve healed up, nice.” 

Adora shrugs. “I don’t really get a chance to see them.”

Catra hums before reaching forward to kiss one of the deeper scars.

“Hey,” she says. “Look at me?”

Adora turns, and Catra gets to see her glowing. Not like She-Ra, but just herself. Just Adora.

Catra takes a breath. Vulnerability was never her strong suit. “I wasn’t kidding, you know, back there in the training room when I said I lo - ”

Suddenly, there’s an insistent knock banging on the door, and Adora jumps. Catra slumps over. “Ugh.” 

Why does everyone have to have such bad timing?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is like an hour later than I promised some of you in the comments, but my wife is a really good smut scene writer and I really wanted her help and I think her tweaks made this exactly what it needed to be. Let me know what you think? I haven't posted smut in aaaaaaaaaaages and I'm a bit worried, even with the wifey's help.
> 
> Next chapter will go up next week if everything goes according to plan. I'm back at work, now, so slower updates.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said I'd post this weekend, but waking up to comments is the only thing keeping me going at this point. Like, literally the only reason I woke up on time to work was knowing that ya'll are so nice.

“You’re glowing!” Glimmer smiles. “You haven’t looked this happy since before the headaches got really bad.”

Adora squints up at the sky. “Yeah, well. It was a good start to the morning.” She smiles absentmindedly, falling back against the snow in the coat that Glimmer had commissioned for her. She’s been carrying a warm ember of hope under her heart with her the whole day, and most importantly, she hasn’t been alone. Her visions haven’t had the time to come and haunt her.

She doesn’t notice Bow regarding her until he speaks. “Uh, Adora? Is that… a hickey?”

Adora adjusts her coat to cover her neck as her face burns.

“No!”

Bow crosses his arms, a smile growing on his dark face. “You have a girlfriend! Boyfriend?”

“She’s gay, Bow.” Glimmer chides, coming to look.

“Girlfriend.” Bow affirms.

“No. I mean. I don’t know.” Adora opens her mouth, and because they’re her friends, she tells them. “It’s Catra.”

Glimmer scrunches her nose and Bow slaps his thigh. “I knew it!”

Adora squints. “You did?”

“I didn’t!” The grimace on Glimmer’s face is a bit much. “Also, gross. Catra? She’s like, literally evil. And also, a magickat. How does that even work? Is her tongue, like, rough or, I mean, ‘cause that sounds painful.”

“That’s really none of our business, Glimmer,” Bow chides. He looks a little embarrassed. Serves him right; he shouldn’t have brought it up. “Besides, she’s on our side, now.”

Adora bursts into laughter. “Yeah, I don’t see her going back to the Horde any time soon, and her tongue is like mine, I mean--”

“Okay, this is veering into ‘too much information’ territory. Don’t wanna hear it.” Bow says, pressing his hands to his ears. “La la la la.”

Adora smiles. She’s so happy to be out in the fresh air, surrounded by her friends, in love. Wait. In love? She loves Catra, sure, always has, but is she in love with her? Is she even allowed to be in love, to be happy? Doubt creeps in, but Adora shakes her head. She is definitely allowed to be happy.

A thought blooms at the idea. She is allowed to be happy, and she is unhappy keeping her pain from her friends. She needs to tell them. 

“Um, guys?” She can feel her throat closing. “I was raped.” Why she decides to tell them now and not at a different time is beyond her. Maybe she’s just in a sharing mood, or maybe it’s because she feels safe in this snowy glade with these wonderful people.

There’s only a moment of stillness, and while Adora can sense their concern, there’s no pity. She breathes. It’s the first time she’s actually said it aloud, and it doesn’t make her gut twist, but it doesn’t feel like a weight’s been lifted off, either. It’s like - it’s like opening her eyes underwater. Blurry. Detached.

“Catra.” Glimmer’s voice is poison as she shatters the uncomfortable silence between the telling and the reacting. “I’m going to rip her throat ou - ”

“Not Catra,” Adora clarifies, and the horror of Glimmer’s misunderstanding brings her back to her skin. Glimmer’s anger doesn’t dissipate, but Adora can tell that she’s uncomfortable, like she wants to ask, but doesn’t want to push.

“Shadow Weaver is the one that - that hurt me. Back when I was a kid in the Fright Zone.”

Bow sits down beside her. “I’m glad you felt safe enough to tell us. What can we do?”

Adora barks. It’s meant to be a laugh, but it’s rough and it’s sudden, grating, nothing like laughter is supposed to be at all. “Nothing. There’s nothing to do. She’s dead, and I’m going crazy seeing things that aren’t there, and there’s _nothing_ I can do.” 

Her breath stutters as she tries not to cry, and she succeeds, but just barely. She’s breathing heavily, biting back a sob when a shadow comes over her. She starts, but it’s not like the shadows that have been haunting her. It’s just Glimmer, come to offer her hand to help Adora stand. Adora accepts the offer. She doesn’t need the help, but it’s comforting anyway. 

“I don’t wanna talk about it anymore,” Adora declares, dusting off her bum as Bow leaps to his feet. 

“Ok,” he says. “Wanna race?”

“I’ll beat you.”

“Just try,” he says, but she’s already running.

\--

When she meets Catra in the hallway, her core tightens. This morning was wow. Adora doesn’t even have words for it; she’s never come so fast in her life. It’s like their year apart never happened, but Adora knows that a year ago, Catra wouldn’t have been capable of being so sugar-sweet. 

The way Catra eyes her over is decidedly less sweet, and Adora distractedly stumbles on a stand displaying a blue and white vase.

In a blur, Catra catches her, and there is no accompanying crash. Adora looks to the side and finds that Catra has clasped her hand around the neck of the vase. She holds Adora like that for a second, and Adora swallows. She feels her heart in her ears, and it’s skipping beats.

“Careful, babe,” Catra smirks, her mouth tantalizingly close to Adora’s. Her breath tickles the hairs on Adora’s skin.

Then, Catra releases her, a bit sheepish. “Frosta really likes these vases. They’ve been in her family for generations, or something. She already doesn’t like you.” She places the vase carefully on the stand.

Adora doesn’t know what comes over her. She’s never been the one to come on to someone before; she mostly just reacts. Still, there was this morning, where she was the one who asked to kiss and literally begged for Catra’s fingers, and there’s now, the way she purposefully walks up to Catra. Catra, to her credit, doesn’t step back.

“What’s up?” She tilts her head to the side.

Adora puts her arms around Catra’s shoulders and leans down just slightly to kiss her. Catra kisses her back; _gods_ , she loves the way that Catra’s teeth catch on her skin. When Catra pulls away, bereft is the only word that comes to Adora’s mind. 

“Promised Scorpia I’d train with her this afternoon. Wanna come with?”

Adora doesn’t want to share Catra, not with Scorpia, or Entrapta, or even her own friends. She wants instead to live in a secluded world where it’s just her and Catra, at least for a little while. She catches a flyaway strand of Catra’s hair between her fingers and twirls it. It’s so good to be on good terms with her oldest friend, and she doesn’t want to risk it by being clingy.

“Sure.”

They climb down to the basement, where it’s a bit warmer, Catra making jokes and pulling at Adora’s hair, and it feels just like old times.

Training feels like old times, too. The focus, the intensity, the way Catra pushes her to be better. Adora’s always had a competitive streak, but her month moping really took a toll, and she’s slipping up more than usual.

“It’s no fun if you let me win,” Catra says as she hits Adora’s middle just a touch harder than necessary.

“I’m out of practice,” Adora admits. “But give me a week, and you won’t land so many blows on me.”

“This is fun, huh guys?” Scorpia interrupts, pushing against Catra. “Hey, I wonder what it’d be like to train against She-ra!”

Catra trips over the air but manages to land gracefully. Adora wonders how much of that is because Scorpia surprised them, and how much of it has to do with the fact that Catra dislikes She-Ra. Oh yeah, she’s definitely noticed Catra doesn’t really like when she’s She-Ra.

“I don’t think--” Adora begins, but Scorpia is looking at her with her big eyes, and honestly, she seems so nice. “I mean, I don’t have the sword today, but maybe tomorrow? Or I could grab it? What do you think, Catra?”

Catra shrugs. “It gives you the advantage, but maybe it would be good to train against her.”

Adora flinches. “Her?”

Catra blushes. “I mean, it’s not you, is it?”

Adora pauses. She doesn’t know how to answer that question. When she’s She-Ra, she is stronger, faster, and less vulnerable. But does that make She-Ra separate to herself?

“I - I think she is? I don’t know.”

“Oh, oh, maybe we could ask Entrapta about it! She’s so smart,” Scorpia sighs.

Adora laughs. “Last time I let Entrapta get near my sword, it ended badly.”

“Yeah, she told us,” Catra snickers. “But she’s a lot more capable than she seems, especially with her access to Horde tech. Might be an idea.”

And because Adora doesn’t know how to say no, she agrees.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My cold is getting bad, guys. Someone get me night-nurse or nyquil or -something- stat.

Entrapta comes to them, and the worry on her face is enough to concern Catra.

“Hi, Adora, Scorpia. Catra, we’ve got a problem,” she says. Before waiting for any of them to respond, she tells them, “the communication lines between Bright Moon and the Kingdom of Snows is down again. I don’t know if it’s the cables or the Runestones’ magics failing, but the problem is where it always is.”

Catra flexes her claws like she’s getting ready for a fight.

“Where’s that?” Adora asks, and Catra starts because of course, Adora doesn’t know where the comms lines go down. She hasn’t been privy to this information. For a moment, Catra battles with two instincts: the part of her that wants to protect Adora, and the part of her that wants to protect herself - from what, she doesn’t know. Neither side wins out, though, because Entrapta gets to it first.

“Oh, in the Whispering Woods near the Fright Zone. We’ve been having lots of problems with it. We don’t think they know? But they might. My intel has been getting quiet as of late; no one talks much around the bots anymore, but I don’t know if that’s because no one is talking in general or if it’s because they’ve figured out Emily and her friends are my little spies. Good news is, the Horde can’t function without technology. The only one with magic is - was - Shadow Weaver and Catra killed her because she ra - ”

Scorpia starts laughing nervously and says, “because she razed villages to the ground! Isn’t that so like Catra,” before she takes Entrapta to the side. Still, for all her naivety, Adora’s not stupid. The damage is done.

Her voice gets low. “You _told_ them?”

“Entrapta, honey, I think it’s time for us to make our exit. Great training with you, Adora. Next time bring the sword!” Scorpia escorts Entrapta away amidst Entrapta’s protests.

“It’s not like that -” Catra tries, but Adora’s not having it. It’s not fair, but Catra knows she’d be pissed, too, if she were Adora.

“You told them. Why? What the hell, Catra? Have they known this whole time?”

“How else was I gonna get them to defect? Besides, I didn’t tell them, they watched the fucking video file with me.” Defensive is probably not the best way to go. From the look on Adora’s face, yeah, no, probably definitely the worst thing to say. Her face crumbles, and Adora is crying fat, ugly tears.

“Hey, no, babe, they didn’t - it was an accident. We were refurbishing my - her - Shadow Weaver’s room, and we found it, the file, and it just kinda, like, as soon as I realized what was happening I made them leave. They didn’t actually see anything, I swear, I didn’t let them, I made them go and I watched some of it, but like - Adora please don’t hate me.” 

Adora’s says something, but because her hands are covering her face and she’s sobbing, Catra doesn’t understand.

“I know you’re mad, I get it, I do, because if there was video of Shadow Weaver hurting me and someone saw it I’d be so, so mad, but babe, please talk to me.”

Catra is freaking out. They’ve only just made up. They’ve only just found their footing; how can it be this bad so soon after they’ve found each other again? She’s never seen Adora this freaked out. She could deal the first time they talked, but this time it’s harder. Catra expected her to be okay, to be better, or bitter, but not soft and sad and messy. This is messy, and Adora has never been _that_ before.

“I d - d - don’t h - hate you. D - d - dunno why I - I’m crying.”

Catra reaches out but pulls her hand back at the last second. She doesn’t know what Adora wants or what she needs, so she allows Adora’s tears to die down a little before she speaks.

“Adora, I’m - ”

“Sorry. I don’t - I’m mad.”

“I shouldn’t have let them watch it.” Catra looks down at her feet.

“That’s not even it. I wish you’d told me, but we haven’t had time to talk. Every time you try to talk to me, I freak out or I kiss you, or I don’t know. We need to talk. To really talk without me messing it up.” Adora’s voice is mostly steady, except for the little hitching sighs interrupting her.

“Um. Now? Now’s good for me.” _Way to sound eager,_ Catra chides herself.

“Don’t you have to, I don’t know, fix the comms line or whatever?”

Catra shrugs. “Not really. Entrapta reports to me because it’s what we’re used to, but she mostly does her own thing and keeps watch. We can talk. We should talk. I don’t want to lose you again.” Those last words are truer than she meant for them to be. Being soft is hard.

If she’s honest with herself, this past year’s been the worst. She’s missed Adora, missed fighting and flirting and being herself. She just wants to be herself, but she knows that she’s too hard, and she wants to be the kind of person who deserves Adora.

“I’ve missed you, too.” The silence sits between them.

“I was mad at you when I found out.” Catra says.

“Why?” The question is laced with a little hurt, but mostly curiosity.

“Because it felt like you’d won the ‘who had it worse’ competition,” she scoffs. “I’m over it now, but I was so mad.”

“There are no winners in that competition, Catra.” 

“I know that now, but it took me the better part of the last year to figure that out. When did you become so insightful?”

Adora shrugs. “Dunno. Glimmer and Bow really help with that.”

Catra nods. “Yeah. I think it was good for us, you know? To have friends, to rely on not each other all the time. I think it was bad for us to be so codependent”

“You’re right, but - I know it’s stupid, but I miss being codependent on you. I miss how close we were. I want - I want to be that close again, but we have a lot of issues to sort out before,” Adora gestures between them, “we get to that place again.”

“I don’t think we ever will. Get to that place again, I mean.” 

“What? Why not?”

“Because we’re different people. We’ve changed. But that doesn’t mean, at least I hope it doesn’t, that we can’t still be friends. Or more. If you want to.”

Adora bites her lip. “I want to. I’m just scared.”

Catra stands. “And probably hungry. I don’t think you’ve eaten much today, and we have just trained. You might be crashing. Let’s get some food, okay?” She offers her hand for Adora to take or ignore.

As if on cue, Adora’s stomach rumbles, and both of them burst into giggles. 

“Catra?”

“Yeah?”

“Why do you keep saying you love me? I’m damaged. Like, I’m really fucked up.”

Catra kneels before her like Adora used to do when they were children. “Because you never gave up on me. You think Frosta didn’t tell me how you looked for me for months? The open secret of the rebellion is that you cared about the Horde’s second-in-command. I’m not dumb, Adora. I know a good thing when I see it.”

“That’s not a good reason to say you love someone.”

“Then how about this? I say it because it’s true. It’s always been true. Now come _on_ , I’m _hungry._ ”

Adora grabs her hands. “Okay. Okay. I’m hungry, too.”

“Thought so.”

Catra allows Adora to go on ahead, and before she leaves, she looks backward. She could’ve sworn there’s something red and glowing in the corner, enveloped by darkness, but when she looks again, there’s nothing. Besides, Shadow Weaver is dead. Catra is just seeing shadows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this in an hour and a half. I'm definitely sacrificing quality for quantity, but hey. Hopefully it's ok.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a couple of hundred words shorter than normal, and I apologize, but this was the natural stopping point for the chapter. Also work sent me home for a sick day, so. :) I wanna die. But I also can't get this story out of my head.

Adora munches on something called popcorn, which she has only seen once before but never gotten to try. She had been too distracted by Catra at the time, worried she was going to ruin princess prom for everyone. To be fair, her instincts were right. Now, in a different world where Catra is soft and she is weak, she finally gets to enjoy it. It’s good. Probably not very nutritious, though.

“Is this all carbs?” she asks around a mouthful.

“Probably some fiber, too? Fuck if I know,” Catra shrugs, and Adora almost chokes on the kernels from laughter. Is this what love feels like? This tender thing in her heart, the hope that Catra’s words back there could have been real. Adora isn’t lovable, but somehow, Catra sees past that. Maybe she’s telling the truth.

She manages, “shouldn’t we have some nuts or something? Protein? Something that will, I don’t, know, actually help with the post-workout thing?”

Catra laughs and throws the popcorn into her mouth. “You’re still such a goody-two-shoes.”

The moment is broken, the hope gone, and Adora rubs her arm self-consciously. She doesn’t think Catra notices, but then Catra bumps against her, her tail twining between them.

“You still mad at me?” Catra’s voice is quiet like she’s not quite sure where to go with this.

“No. Maybe? I don’t know. I’m not mad at you, I just don’t like being called a ‘goody-two-shoes.’ It, uh,” Adora swallows, her mouth suddenly dry. But she wants to talk, she wants to tell Catra why she’s upset instead of keeping it secret in her heart. She’s tired of secrets. “It makes me feel like I earned Shadow Weaver’s attention. Like it was my fault because I tried to be good to make her happy, and maybe I did! Like, maybe if I hadn’t been such an overachiever, I would have slipped under her radar. I could’ve been less eager.”

Catra scoffs, but it’s not unkind. “Adora, please, I was teasing. You were never _that _good. Remember the shit we used to pull with Octavia?” Her tone changes, dangerous, “Shadow Weaver was a creep. Who knows why she chose to hurt us more than the others? But that’s the point, we’ll never know and like, honestly, it doesn’t matter. She was twisted, and now she’s dead, and guess what! We’re both still standing.” Catra nuzzles against Adora’s arm, and the action is so affectionate, so _Catra._ Her heart clenches.__

__“Yeah, you’re right," she says like she believes it._ _

__Catra is still crunching away on popcorn in the crook of Adora’s arm when everyone rushes into the kitchen. Glimmer, Bow, Entrapta, Scorpia, Frosta, all looking panicked. They’re talking at once, looking at Adora and Catra like they have the answers, and it’s fine, it’s fine, Adora thrives on chaos, usually. She just needs to make sense of it first._ _

__“Okay, okay,” she says, “one at a time!”_ _

__But they’re all still yelling, and she picks up bits and pieces._ _

__“... systems-wide power outage in the Fright Zone--”_ _

__“... they’re coming, the Horde--”_ _

__“They’ve ambushed Bright Moon!”_ _

__“Enough!” Adora shouts, and Catra dislodges from her side. That seems to do it. “The only thing I got from that is that Bright Moon’s in trouble. How did this happen? Entrapta, does it have something to do with the comms line going down?”_ _

__“Well, yes. They figured out about Emily and the others, so they shut everything down after they attacked the communication line.”_ _

__Glimmer interrupts, “Swift Wind said an old lady named Madame Baz--”_ _

__“Madame Razz?” Adora interrupts._ _

__“Whatever, she said that they’re in trouble! The Horde is attacking, and we need to go. I brought your sword.” Glimmer thrusts it at them, and Catra visibly tenses. Adora is unsure if it’s because Glimmer has no idea that she shouldn’t be pointing the sword at them, or if it’s because Catra just hates She-Ra that much, but Adora doesn’t have time to think about it. She goes to Glimmer and takes the sword from her._ _

__She only glances at Catra for a moment before she transforms._ _

__“For the honor of Grayskull!”_ _

__\--_ _

__When they get to Bright Moon, there are tanks everywhere, Horde soldiers dotting the landscape like ants on a picnic blanket. That’s what sticks in her mind; they’re like bugs. She’s going to crush them._ _

__Well, that’s not entirely true. She doesn’t like to kill Horde soldiers; she knows too many of their names. Of course, Adora realizes that these people she turned on would gladly put a sword through her any day, but she is not like them, not anymore. Was she ever? No, that’s not fair. She was._ _

__Glimmer teleports everywhere, trying to find a good vantage point. “Hey! It looks like there’s something wrong with the palace!”_ _

__“What?” Bow asks as Adora follows him to Glimmer’s side._ _

__What she sees in the distance - well, she doesn’t understand. It’s not possible for the palace to be enshrined in unholy shadow, but it is. It’s almost like - no, not like. The words choke in Adora’s throat._ _

__She barely registers that Catra and Scorpia appear on their commandeered skiff, Catra leaping gracefully to her side._ _

__“Hey, babe. So, what’s the - shit.”_ _

__“You said you killed her.” She-ra is supposed to be strong. She is supposed to be a protector, and you can’t protect anything if you’re weak. Still, Adora’s voice sounds small. There’s a gaping chasm in her chest like Shadow Weaver has reached into her heart and ripped it straight out. She feels like she can’t breathe._ _

__Even Catra’s panic can’t penetrate the underwater feeling that’s suddenly come over Adora._ _

__She hears Catra splutter, say that it can’t be Shadow Weaver, but it doesn’t register. Not because Catra failed her, but because she isn’t going crazy. It’s been Shadow Weaver the whole time. The nightmares, the visions, they were real, and that means that she’s got a chance. She can make this right. She can kill Shadow Weaver._ _

__Adora strides into the fray, straight for the shadow monsters._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, and for all the bookmarks and all the subscriptions, and everything. I'm so grateful for you guys.  
> Also, how do y'all feel about an "Adora the Vampire Slayer" AU? I'm brainstorming now.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)

“What are you doing?” Catra shouts after Adora, but it’s like Adora doesn’t hear her. Maybe she doesn’t, all glowy and She-Rafied, and that’s frightening. More frightening is the blankness on Adora’s face, the way she straightens herself and readies for battle. She’s going to do something she’s going to regret. She’s going to get herself killed, and Catra will be damned if she just watches.

 _You failed her,_ a voice in the back of her head tells her. Like she doesn’t know. She’d wanted it to be clean when she threw the explosive in Shadow Weaver’s cell, but of course, the bitch would find a way to survive. Catra should’ve stayed, should’ve made sure it was finished. Now Adora has to clean up after her, like always.

It makes Catra feel small. Not enough. Wrong. She’d wanted to be the hero for once, and she failed; worse, she failed Adora; even worse, she failed Adora again. 

Catra sees her charging, cutting large swaths out of the Horde army that stands between herself and Shadow Weaver. 

“It’s a trap,” she says. She knows it, knows it because Adora is predictable with that sword of hers. She cannot let Adora fall for it.

Catra is racing against the clock now, against She-Ra and Shadow Weaver, and oh stars, this can’t be happening, _this can’t be happening_. She-Ra is fast, but Catra, thankfully, is faster.

She flips herself just ahead of Adora’s path, grunting as she lands.

“Out of my way.” It’s Adora’s voice for the most part, but with more gravitas.

“It’s a trap,” Catra repeats, but this time it’s more than a whisper, and it’s meant for Adora to hear. 

Adora’s looks lost, more like herself than like She-Ra, but then that insufferable determination! It’s back on her inhumanly beautiful face.

“I have to face her.”

“Not by yourself, you don’t.” _Please, please, please listen._ Catra can’t let her walk into that trap by herself, not with Shadow Weaver waiting. This has been a year in the making, and it’s all Catra’s fault, and she won’t let Adora go in there by herself.

“You’re not trying to stop me?”

“When has that ever worked? We look out for each other, remember? I’m not going to let you walk into that trap with no one at your- ”

Catra doesn’t get to finish, because She-Ra suddenly charges at her, anger furrowing her brow and her sword raised. Catra flinches, ducks, and oh. Behind Catra lies a Horde soldier, cleaved in two, his weapon charged. Adora was trying to protect her, not attack her. 

“Ok,” Adora says, hefting the sword on her shoulder, not sparing a glance at the fallen soldier. “Let’s go.”

The closer they get to the palace, the less the Horde soldiers bother them. It’s concerning, to say the least. Catra worries, not for the first time, what the trap will be. She’d walk into hell backwards for Adora, but what if that’s exactly what she’s doing? Besides, Adora like this, wearing She-Ra like a second skin, is really creepy.

She’s seen She-Ra before, fought her too. It’s not like she’s hideous or even particularly scary, it’s just that she speaks with her best friend’s voice, has her best friend’s mannerisms, but isn’t her best friend. Adora’s always been taller than her, but only by a couple of inches, and Adora is already beautiful, but She-Ra just doesn’t look human. There’s none of Adora’s softness.

Catra shudders. They’re close to the castle now, and a chill lingers in the air that has nothing to do with winter.

“Aren’t you cold?” Catra asks.

“Not when I’m She-Ra,” says Adora, but then her shoulders hunch. “I feel it, too. It feels like all the good’s been sucked out of the world. Like something bad is going to happen.”

Catra nods and nearly jumps when She-Ra - no, Adora - takes her hand. She’s scared, Catra realizes. Catra squeezes hard.

“Ok,” Adora says as they approach the gates. They’re wreathed in shadow, and one of the gates opens ominously, a tendril of darkness beckoning them forward.

Shadows slither all over the castle, alive and eerie, petting their hair, their clothes. Adora winces every time but continues forward. Catra has to steel herself too, ignore memories of Shadow Weaver assaulting her, holding her still as she pumped electricity through her veins. Adora’s hand in hers keeps her grounded.

The way the tendrils touch Adora is possessive, whereas they leave scratches on Catra’s arms and her face. Catra doesn’t know what makes her angrier. Once, she would’ve resented the favoritism. Now, she wouldn’t wish that favoritism on her worst enemy, let alone Adora.

\--

It takes them the better part of an hour to find Shadow Weaver, despite Adora’s knowledge of the castle grounds. It’s just that big. By the time they get there though, Catra is covered in scratches. They sting, but Catra knows that if Shadow Weaver really wanted her in pain, she would be screaming on the floor.

The shadows suddenly dissipate. “This is Queen Angella’s room,” Adora says, a break in her voice. 

She hesitates before the door, then pushes it open. Inside, the Queen of Bright Moon lies on the floor, restrained by rope-like shadows, and Shadow Weaver stands before them. Her hands bear burn scars, and her hair is shorn.

“Adora,” she draws out Adora’s name like it’s delicious, and Catra’s stomach squeezes at the sound. “I’ve missed you.”

Adora’s face blanks like she’s lost all her fire. She says nothing.

Catra hisses. “How’d you survive?”

Shadow Weaver spares Catra a glance before she ignores her and says. “As you can see, your little pet remained more loyal to you than any of us expected.” 

Catra bristles, but the words seem to bring color into Adora’s cheeks. “She’s not my pet.”

That is all the warning that Shadow Weaver gets before Adora rushes forward, but even Adora isn’t quick enough to escape the shadows that corner the room, reaching out to take hold of her. Still, she is strong in this form, strong enough to strain against them, strong enough to eventually break their bonds and get closer before the next set takes their place. 

Each step is agonizing to watch; sweat drips off Adora from the effort, but eventually, she’s standing right before Shadow Weaver, her hand clutching at her sword hilt.

“You want to kill me, Adora. Why? I gave you everything. Taught you everything you know.”

“I hate you.”

“Now, Adora, you don’t, not really. After everything we’ve been through, after everything we’ve done together - ” 

“After everything _you_ put me through. After everything you did to me. None of that was my - ” Adora chokes as a shadow winds itself around her neck.

“You loved me, child. Do not deny it.”

Adora can’t respond. The sword clatters to the ground and her hands scrabble at the coils around her neck. It’s hard to watch, but Catra forces herself to look, calculating the best course of action before she springs beneath Shadow Weaver’s notice. She lunges at Adora, and that seems to disorient the sorceress. In that moment of distraction, Adora retrieves her sword and plunges it into Shadow Weaver’s belly.

The gurgling sound Shadow Weaver makes Catra want to turn away. It’s the only sound in the room when the shadows roar upwards.

Adora doesn’t say anything, just silently grunts as she pulls the sword out of Shadow Weaver’s gut.

At this, the shadows finally, agonizingly dissipate. She-Ra disappears, leaving behind Adora who coughs violently, shivering and shuddering. She kneels to the ground with only the sword for support.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it, she's actually dead this time.
> 
> Also, I have a few AO3 invitations if anyone needs one. I've been on this site for a while and forgot that you get a few invites every year or something.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's just sad, guys. Sorry in advance.

Time skips after she slices through Shadow Weaver’s belly and the sorceress falls. One second, Adora’s kneeling on the floor in Queen Angella’s room. The next, she’s looking over Bright Moon, a legion of soldiers cut down before her, and it’s over. If her sword gleams with blood, the fields are soaked with it. She isn’t sure how she knows this, but she does know it.

In the after, when Adora and Catra are washing the blood off of their skin in Adora’s bedroom, Catra tells her how She-Ra slaughtered most of the Horde’s forces. _She-Ra._ Like it hadn’t been Adora. Adora knows better, even if Catra doesn’t.

It has been an unequivocal victory for the Rebellion, and a smashing blow to the Horde. Adora doesn’t know what to feel. She’s always, since becoming She-Ra, made sure to kill as few people as possible. Most of the Horde soldiers just don’t know what Hordak is leading them into. She doesn’t know why she’s done this. So many people dead, dead, dead. She leaps out of the tub, because the popcorn she had all those hours ago - it feels like days, now - repeats on her.

Later, Catra holds her. She smells different, like the citrusy Bright Moon soap Adora has come to associate with her new life. It’s weird, but at least the weight of Catra’s arms is familiar; the way her nails scratch her head affectionately feels like home, whatever home means. She knows this will end, knows that Catra will have to go back to the Kingdom of Snows because that’s her home now, but - 

“Catra?” Adora leans into Catra.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t feel better.”

“Oh, babe. You won’t. But now you’re safe.”

When she dreams, Shadow Weaver greets her, her smile lecherous and imposing, pointing to the dead Horde soldiers in the fields. Instead of talking, she gurgles up blood and pulls open her belly wide, wider, until all Adora can see is her entrails spilling out onto the floor.

She wakes in a cold sweat and realizes that she might never feel safe again.

\--

Somehow, Catra doesn’t get her own room. Technically, she is still Frosta’s guest, but Adora has heard the whispers between Glimmer, Bow, Queen Angella, and _Catra._ The fact that Catra is whispering about her makes her heart sink. She’s not sure what the whisperings are about, but she suspects it has something to do with the fact that she decimated, no, _killed,_ so many people. Adora doesn’t know how she did it. She’s been so careful not to let She-Ra’s power overwhelm her, but Shadow Weaver has always brought out the rage in her, even before her memories were returned. Worse, she likes the feeling of knowing the Horde needs to regroup because of her power, her strength. She likes the sick feeling less. She hasn’t been able to eat a full meal in too long.

“Hey, Adora.” Catra’s tired voice lifts her spirit.

“Hey.” It’s only because of Catra that she eats at all, that she manages to bathe and go for short walks. Still, the food is flavorless, the baths are perfunctory, and the sun too bright.

“I brought you some food. Glimmer said it’s one of your favorites.”

Adora eats three bites of the rabbit stew before pushing it away. Her stomach feels empty, but the emptiness feels safe.

Something about that triggers the most ungentle response from Catra she’s seen in ages. “Okay, you need to stop moping.” She kneels before Adora, but doesn’t touch her. She’s still too gentle, and Adora wishes she wouldn’t be. 

“I’m not moping. I’m tired.”

Catra raises an eyebrow. “You haven’t done anything off your own back for two weeks. You never leave the room unless I make you, and you’re losing weight. Adora, you’re depressed, and I get it, but you need to snap out of it.”

Adora blinks, turns, and crawls into her unmade bed. It’s not like she doesn’t know she’s being unreasonable, it’s just that she can’t feel anything, not even pain or sadness or _anything_. It’s boring. It’s exhausting. Since killing Shadow Weaver, she’s been empty.

Catra follows her, but doesn’t get into the bed. She’s livid, Adora can tell, but not even that penetrates through the cloud hanging over Adora’s head.

Catra puts a tentative hand on her shoulder and Adora twists, grabbing Catra’s hand and pulling her onto the custom made cot.

“What are you doing?” Catra bristles, and Adora releases her. 

“I want to feel something. The only time I feel anything is when you’re touching me.” 

“Ador - hmmph!”

Adora presses her lips to Catra’s. At first, Catra doesn’t respond, but even when she does, it’s tentative. Adora breaks away when she realizes why.

“You don’t want this,” she says.

“That’s not it,” Catra begins, but Adora won’t be like Shadow Weaver. She won’t force anyone to do what they don’t want to do. She closes her eyes against the sudden sting in them as Catra continues, “I don’t want it to be like this between us. I don’t want you to want me just to make you feel. I want you to want me because that’s what you want. Stars, I’m not making any sense.”

Adora opens her eyes and stares into Catra’s heterochromatic ones. “Why does it matter? I want you, and you want me.”

Catra sighs, something like affection and worry on her face. She used to look at Adora like that a lot, in the before, when they were both in the Horde and Adora didn’t remember and the world was simple. “Because I love you. I don’t want to use you, and honestly, I don’t want you to use me.”

“I’m not -”

But she stops herself. When she recognizes the truth in Catra’s words, she begins to cry. There it is, there’s the pain coursing through her veins. For the first time since Shadow Weaver’s death, she feels. Her tears aren’t for Shadow Weaver, but all the Horde soldiers killed, all the pain she endured, her unearthed memories. 

Catra is holding her, she realizes; her face is pressed against Catra’s chest. It’s a different sort of comfort, but she’ll take it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IDK what this was. A stepping-stone for healing, probably, but it just felt like overindulgent angst.


	14. Chapter 14

Tomorrow, Adora and Catra lead a strike unit into the Fright Zone to finally try and bring the Horde down. According to Scorpia, who’d headed the reconnaissance team, now is the time to do it. Morale is low among the ranks and Hordak had too much pinned on the Second Battle of Bright Moon. Too many lives lost. Just one more, Hordak’s, and the fight is over.

_One more, one more, one more death._ she tells herself as she buries her hands in Catra’s hair. She’s stroking Catra’s ears, scratching right at the base of them as Catra melts into her lap. They’ve had dinner - Adora is eating again - and now it’s time to rest before tomorrow’s mission.

The world is soft, here. It is safe and warm, and Adora doesn’t want to leave, at least not without asking Catra a question. The problem is that that question, it could ruin everything. It could break them apart, but if they die tomorrow, Adora wants to know that she reached out. She wants to know that she tried.

She bites her lip, but Catra can’t see. “Why did it take learning about Shadow Weaver for you to leave?” She never hesitates in the way she caresses Catra’s ears, even if her voice does hitch.

Catra deepens her purr and Adora thinks she’s pretending she didn’t hear, but Adora jostles her. 

“Catra?”

She cuts off her purr and sits up, but she can’t seem to face Adora’s gaze. Instead, her eyes focus on one of the decorative crystals. She looks like she’s trying to fight something off. Maybe panic or tears, Adora isn’t sure. 

“Because I thought you’d abandoned me.” 

“I asked you to come with me.” Adora’s voice is quiet as she folds her hands in her lap. Honestly, she doesn’t understand how Catra can keep saying this. Is it true? Is it really that simple?

“Yeah, but only after I came looking for you, and only - only as an afterthought. But I guess, that’s not the real reason. Ugh. I can’t believe - you’re going to hate this.”

“Try me,” Adora smiles reassuringly, even as she fears what Catra will say. 

Catra breathes in. “It was more than you abandoning me, even more than feeling inadequate. I think it was that you were willing to leave the Horde for strangers. You never once thought of leaving for _me_.” Before Adora can protest, Catra lifts up her hand. “No, listen, I know you tried to leave with me, or something, but was it ever because of what Shadow Weaver did to me, or was it because of what she was doing to you? ”

Oh.

Adora’s pulse speeds up with a feeling she can’t name. Guilt, maybe. Inadequacy, definitely.

Catra is angry, Adora can tell. She gets off the bed away from Adora and paces, her claws retracting and reappearing.

Whenever she talks about Shadow Weaver taking away her memory, there’s a pang inside. It’s strange, to have all these recollections that don’t seem to fit anywhere. “Shadow Weaver took away most of my memories of her hurting you. The ones that she didn’t - she made it feel like it was always my fault, my responsibility. Like I needed to do better if I didn’t want you to get hurt. I never meant to abandon you, Catra. I’m sorry. I wasn’t - I wasn’t the friend you deserved.” 

Catra’s expression melts from exasperation into bewilderment. “Adora, it wasn’t your fault Shadow Weaver fucked with your head. Hey. Hey, babe. Come on, look at me.”

Adora does not look at Catra. “She took so much away from us,” she says instead, feeling her throat constrict.

“Yeah. Yeah, she did.”

The silence stretches between them like an unkempt road. Something about being angry and tender and vulnerable opens up a canyon inside of Adora. She’s falling, falling away from herself. She shouldn’t have said anything. She should’ve just taken the comfort that Catra offered and left it at that instead of trying to understand things that don’t matter anymore. 

“I don’t want her to take away anything else,” Catra says quietly.

Adora laughs, startled.

“She can’t,” Adora says. Isn’t it obvious? She killed her. 

Adora lifts up her eyes to find Catra walking calmly over to the bed. Resolve flashes in her heterochromatic eyes. Adora knows that look well. Catra’s up to something. She sits on edge of the bed and takes Adora’s hand in hers.

“I miss you.”

Adora tilts her head but doesn’t get it until Catra raises her hand to her lips. Then, Adora’s skin flushes.

“I thought-” she splutters.

“We don’t have to!” Catra blurts. “It’s just - I want you. I want you, Adora, but I don’t want to hurt you.”

Adora can feel her skin grow hotter. “I want you, too.” The words are out of her mouth without her realizing, and before she loses her nerve, she pushes Catra on to the bed. Catra smiles up at her, and Adora can’t believe her own presumption. Not after last time.

“Is this okay,” she whispers. Catra’s sheathed her claws, and her soft fingers come up to caress Adora’s face.

“Yes,” Catra affirms before she presses her lips up to Adora’s. There’s something about the way Catra sighs into that kiss, something about her pupils overtaking the colors in her eyes. Adora doesn’t understand why Catra would ever want her, but she does. There’s no denying it; the blush on Catra’s cheeks and the little noises she makes at the back of her throat, it’s all because Adora’s hands explore over Catra’s clothes.

When Adora pulls away, her voice is hoarse. “I want you,” she says again, like it’s the simplest thing in the world! Maybe right now, it is.

“You sure?” Catra responds before nipping at Adora’s lips. The sharpness contrasts with the tenderness, and Adora can feel the bite go straight through her. She needs more.

“I’m sure,” Adora responds. 

There’s something reverent about helping Catra divest of her clothing. It reminds her of stepping into a First One’s temple. Touching Catra is like touching the stars. 

“Adora?” Catra asks. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. You’re just so beautiful,” Adora whispers, her hand skimming over Catra’s nipple. Catra shudders at that, and Adora can see the goosebumps on her skin.

Catra’s laughing, burrowing deeper into the pink sheets, pulling Adora against her. Her voice muffles against Adora’s neck.

“What?”

“You’re still wearing too many clothes.” Catra huffs. “Sit up. Let’s make this a little bit fairer,” she purrs.

Adora obeys, lifting her arms to help Catra and shivering as the cold air hits her vulnerable skin. Soon, both she and Catra are bare to each other, and the moment broken. Adora doesn’t know how to restart.

“I don’t know what you like,” she admits.

Catra grins crookedly. “You.”

Adora starts, then laughs. “I mean, I don’t know what you like to do in bed.”

Catra shrugs, then. “Still, you. And I know very little about what you like. Let’s find out together.” She’s kissing her again, her sharp teeth drawing whimpers from Adora. 

It’s nothing like anything Adora’s ever felt. She wants to curl up inside of Catra, make her sing, make her _scream._ She breaks away from Catra’s lips and places open-mouthed kisses down to her nipples, past her belly, until she finds Catra’s gleaming slit.

“Do you like this?” Adora teases, smiling up at Catra.

Catra groans and digs her fingers into Adora’s hair, pushing her face toward her wet center. “Adora, I swear if you don’t touch me I’m going to die.”

Adora laughs and allows herself to be maneuvered. When she tastes Catra, she moans so loud that Adora stops to make sure it’s still okay. 

“Yeah, stop teasing me and just -”

Adora interrupts her with her tongue sliding just over her clit, and Catra keens desperately. 

She worships Catra’s body with her mouth, her hands digging into Catra’s thighs, her fingers leaving indents in the skin where they’ve found purchase. She wants Catra to know how devoted she is to her.

It’s over too soon; Catra comes with a moan that sounds suspiciously like Adora’s name and releases Adora’s hair. When Adora tries to draw out the orgasm, Catra pushes her away. “Too much. Good, but too much,” she manages. Adora’s giggles are brought to a halt when Catra pulls her down for a kiss.

“Stars,” Catra says when she pulls away. “You taste so good.”

“I taste like you.”

Catra smirks. “Your turn.”

When Catra touches her, when she talks her through to her own revelation, Adora is overwhelmed by sensation. Catra seems to know exactly where to touch her as if pleasuring Adora were some course of study and Catra is the lecturer. 

They hold each other after, declaring love and spilling secrets, finding comfort in each other’s presence.

Whatever happens tomorrow, they’re together, and they make each other stronger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it. I don't know if this ended well, but I am emotionally done with this story and my mania is over and I have other things I want to do. This story has served its purpose to me, and I'm so grateful for all the comments, bookmarks, and subscriptions.
> 
> I hope you all have a very lovely holiday season.


End file.
